


Leaning on the Edge

by startyourbenjens



Category: The Following
Genre: F/M, Office Sex, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startyourbenjens/pseuds/startyourbenjens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slice of life of Joe and Claire early in their relationship (pre-marriage, book, & killings).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaning on the Edge

There's a reason he's not overly fond of public sex. It's  _undignified_  in the most unique of ways, the grotesque way his pants hang just off his hips and the disheveled tangle of how her clothes droop precariously from her limbs. But Claire seems enthralled by this public dalliance in her office, the sneaking nature of how she pulls him with long fingers looped about his tie beyond the workspace threshold and how the smallest of gasps slips from her lips when his foot kicks the door shut behind them. Joe may not enjoy the vulgar display, the clumsy way their bodies must adjust to their surroundings but he will do nothing to discourage Claire’s passions in this moment.

As it is, his palms are climbing higher beneath the silk of her blouse while her legs are hitching upward to welcome him between them. Their clumsy pacing to her desk was punctuated with nips and brushes of lips against each other, the bump of the oaken surface behind Claire being Joe’s signal to dig fingers into her thighs, lifting her to a seated position at the surface edge just for him. Her nails are raking into the short, coarse hairs at the nape of his neck, leaving deep scratches at the sensitive skin beneath them. Sudden shivers of pleasure roll through his spine as the sensation of utter arousal spreads through him. Her hands roving along his body are tethers to the world around him, rooting him in this moment with her. Joe hurriedly pops the buttons on her blouse, hastily pulling the white of her brassier down and out of the path of questing hands. " _I want you, Claire._ " He snarls the words into the hollow of his neck, teeth biting at the jut of her collarbone. His hands are rough where they cup her breasts, palms stained with the texture of chalk. He grates against her skin and through lidded eyes he can see the sharp bite as her pearly whites sink into the plumpness of her bottom lip. Claire fills his grasp perfectly and Joe catches a rose peak between his fingers. "Watching you every day,  _leering_  at you when you're teaching. Wanting nothing more than to walk in and **_take_** you." 

_Partial truths and lies are acceptable so long as she is none the wiser._

" _Joe_ ," She chokes into the soft material of his collar. He can feel through the fabric how her teeth catch into the cotton, skewing it off to one side. _God_ , how he loves the way she says his name, how it sounds falling from her lips. Her lightly manicured nails rake down from his hair to dip beneath the skewed shirt. He can feel where they pierce his skin in long lines. Joe is hot and alive under her touch. 

It takes a strength of will he draws from all parts of himself to untangle lips and limbs from her long enough to wrench the impeding panties from her hips. Claire lifts herself from the desk briefly, an anguished huff of breath escaping, and Joe's hands grip the fabric and pull quickly. The sight of them running down long legs is entrancing and Joe vows that it is a sight he'll savor  _next time_. “ _Silk_ , Professor Matthews?” He drops the undergarment to the floor and returns to her quickly, lips coming back to hers with a ravenous hunger. Neither relinquishes their hold on the other, Claire pulling Joe to her with hands and legs wrapping around him as her skirt hikes obscenely upward. Joe keeps one hand pressed 'round the back of her neck, forcing her close to him. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you had planned this rendezvous.”

 

From the instant he met her, Joe had thought her a woman of stunning contradictions. She speaks for long hours of art and the many ages that shape and construct an artist so that their strokes may grace the canvas in such a manner unique to a historical style but also has he seen her when she believes herself alone, humming catchy pop tunes under her breath in the solitude of her kitchen. Silks and supple materials are her attire, professional and gentle as they kiss upon her skin. But t-shirts and shorts and wool sweaters hang in her closet at home, comforting her in those leisurely moments. Even now she smirks, a haughty smile taking over her features as mirth dances in the almond lines of her eyes. She is breathy and confident when she presses herself forward against him, sultry whispers in his ear, **“** Do you really think I would plan this, Joe? **”**  

 

 **“** _Oh, I do_. **”** He counters unfaltering, breath catching when she nips hard at his ear lobe, teeth pulling at the skin. Joe buries his moan into her neck once more and elation is his when Claire jerks at the pleasure of his unshaven jaw running against the heightened nerves of her flesh. Joe can feel the weaning of his patience as her hips slide in tantalizing short movements along him, daring him to continue this game they play. The cotton of his undergarments is drenched with the evidence of their wanting. A hasty shove from his free hand and Joe is free to feel her thoroughly, a sound near a sob sputtering out unbidden as the two rub against each other. **“** I think you are a temptress, Claire. _Wicked and cruel._ **”**

Joe brings them together in a hot rush of verbal distraction and physical caress, a hand wrapped briefly around himself before it is removed as he feels the warm heat of her surrounding him. They can feel the moment the air leaves their lungs to expel each other's names on a breath. The slide inside her is _exquisite_. With every fibre of her being she clutches to him, holding him beyond the grasp of the world but only to her, _just Claire_. Even Joe is silent for a moment, eyes shut, appreciating the thunder of blood rushing through his veins and the way his heart is racing so vehemently she must feel it where they touch. Joe gives the first experimental roll of his hips and Claire clutches him with clasped fingers for it. Foreheads pressed together, he smiles slow and catlike, trying to ignore the throbbing ache beneath his belly. Joe opens his eyes lazily and meets her gaze, cerulean and astonishing. Though she chews the luscious pink of her bottom lip a smile peeks through flushed features. 

The urgent heat of the moment leaves them and only Joe and Claire remain, smiling devilishly at each other. "I'll be late for class. I think it has been your plan all along, Professor Matthews,"  Joe leans forward, kissing her through his words and teasing her with her formal title, “ to ruin my otherwise perfect attendance. My students will be so disappointed.” There's a hitch as he feels the slow friction of the movement roiling through his lower extremities, an involuntary shudder as he is unable to ignore the delicious burn it ignites in him. Claire moves herself to time with his words. Joe has always been a conversational lover, finding his forte oft in the verbal foreplay and the filthy descriptions of his desires. Claire indulges him pruriently in these talents, withholding her breathy sighs and restrained moans only for when he has truly earned them with lascivious details of how ardently he needs her. She challenges him by her body and he revels in the hard earned spoils of her yielding.

"Most students leave if their professor is more than ten minutes late for class," she purrs, back arching and a hot whimper escaping as the impetus of his thrusting shoves her hard against the surface of her desk.  “Besides, would you rather have to tell them why you were late for class?” Her hands drag lower, gripping at the flesh upon his hips. With tugging digits she pulls him harder against her. The deep moan that emanates from with his chest is baritone, an animalistic growl that releases loudly into the reverberations of her office. He can hear it over the rush of his blood and the sweet sounds Claire is echoing in his ears. No, he is not one for public sex but the notion of everyone knowing that only minutes earlier he was pleasuring himself and the faculty favorite among colleagues and pupils?

He envisions the shocked reactions of the staff as they know that their beloved Professor Matthews is his to devour with hungry touches and covetous kisses. How his lips have tasted her and his hands touched every succulent inch of her person innumerously. Joe has gluttoned himself upon her and still he feasts and they should know that none of their charms or advances will work when he is there each night to waste himself upon her morning, noon, and night, as often as time will allow them. Joe revels in the image, torn between needing them all to know the desperate way she pants his name when they are like this, him snug against her center and grinding himself in slow, arduous circles, and keeping this knowledge private to himself, unwilling to share these intimacies with anyone.  

"I suppose class is cancelled then," he whispers before the dam breaks and a laugh bursts forth from him. Heat turns briefly to playful toying, hands no longer gripping but caressing as Claire’s lips, swollen from kisses and the merciless grating of his stubble, smile coyly at him. Joe presses his weight against her, leaning her back against her own desk as he hovers above her, still joined together though paused in their onslaught. It's _grossly_ improper, how he can feel the cool artificial air grazing across so much of his exposed skin, the way she is utterly spread across the wooden surface. "Mm, I have to have you, Claire." Joe drives his mouth back to hers, kissing her into a frenzy as they grind against each other again, muttering and whimpering and hissing in pleasure.

 

\----------------

Dr. Strauss had called to chat with him earlier, just prior to their lunch date between classes.

_She was lovely, Joe. You should have seen her._


End file.
